


Hey Baby, Can I Be Your New Favorite Book?

by i_feel_electric



Category: Big Bang (Band), GTOP - Fandom, K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Public Sex, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_feel_electric/pseuds/i_feel_electric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiyong is attempting to study in the library when the unexpected happens *cough* library sex *cough*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey Baby, Can I Be Your New Favorite Book?

 

 

The university library was almost empty today, every turn of a page and dropped pencil reverberating twice as loud in the vast building. You couldn't even sniff or clear your throat without half a dozen heads lifting to shoot daggers of annoyance in your general direction. Jiyong held back a frustrated sigh, narrowed eyes honed in on the Sociology textbook that lay open on the heavy, wooden table. He wished he could set fire to the thick tome instead of writing the fifteen page research paper that was due next week. Jiyong hated writing papers almost more than anything else. What was the point of talking  _at_  someone when you could talk  _to_  them? And what kind of sick, twisted masochist actually wanted to read and grade twenty-something essays that were full of more shit than the clogged toilets of the men's bathroom over at C Hall? He pushed his glasses up and slouched further into his chair, rolling up the sleeves and playing with the buttons of his blue and green plaid shirt. The only thing he genuinely cared about this semester was his History of French Cinema class because they actually fucking  _discussed_  the material instead of filling word documents with regurgitated crap.

 

Well, that and the ridiculously hot senior who sat in the row in front of him.

 

Jiyong had never seen anyone like him before. The guy paraded around like a 1950s greaser; tight black t-shirts and tight jeans, slick shoes and slicker hair. And always shrouded in plumes of curling cigarette smoke whenever he wasn't inside. His intense, dark eyes were framed by long lashes and perpetually furrowed eyebrows, like he was in a constant state of deep thought. He wore leather jackets and rode a goddamn  _motorcycle_  as if he'd literally jumped from the silver screen of Jiyong's wet dreams. In fact, the first time Jiyong had jerked off to the thought of the boy's sinfully beautiful mouth on his, he'd come so hard he screamed himself hoarse.

 

But he was untouchable. Out of his league. One of those people you pined over from a distance and prayed that they'd spare you a glance, a nod, any kind of gesture that would validate your existence for that fleeting moment. Jiyong had never had the balls to approach him or even communicate with him indirectly through class discussions. No, he merely sat there every Tuesday and Thursday with his chin cradled in his hand, watching the light of some French New Wave film flicker and dance over the boy's profile. He'd seen most of the movies on the syllabus already anyway, so he didn't feel guilty for not paying attention. Besides, it was infinitely more fascinating to observe the reactions flitting across that gorgeous face than watch Jean-Paul Belmondo make eyes at Jean Seberg.

 

For the most part, Jiyong was used to this. Used to lusting after things he couldn't have and settling for less. He'd allowed desperate virgins to paw at him with unskilled hands and gone down on pretty football players who were so far in the closet they'd found Narnia. And for the most part, he pretended it didn't bother him. But it was unsatisfying and it made him feel like he was a slut when he wasn't. Jiyong liked sex. He just hadn't found someone else who liked  _him_  enough to make it worth his while. He'd bet money that James Dean 2.0 was a god in the sack, though. Long fingers like that? Jiyong would probably implode on contact.

 

He released the frustrated sigh he'd been holding as gently as he could, raking tired fingers through the short mess of blonde hair atop his head. It was three in the afternoon and he'd been here for five hours. His notes were nonexistent, mechanical pencil wedged, forgotten, in the crease of his textbook. Obviously he wasn't going to get anything done today. And if he was being honest, he'd rather go back to his apartment and call Youngbae so they could get wasted and watch shitty television until they passed out. Jiyong scrubbed at his face and closed his Sociology book, the dull thud echoing against the high ceilings. Everyone glared at him and he rolled his eyes. Everyone except for one person.

 

That one person being his Danny Zuko come to life, though not nearly as much of an imbecile. Jiyong froze with hands poised over the table. Seunghyun, was it? Seunghyun was staring at him from across the room, for whatever reason, and now he couldn't breathe. Those eyes. Those pretty, fathomless fucking eyes were looking directly into his and Jiyong felt like he might actually  _die_. He dropped his gaze and blushed so hard he was surprised his head hadn't caught fire. How had he missed  _that_  walking into the study room? And why was Seunghyun even here? He didn't strike Jiyong as the type who cared about acing his exams, regardless of how intelligent he managed to sound during class. A fact that only made him lust after the mysterious boy more fervently.

 

Taking his glasses off, he wiped the lenses clean with the hem of his shirt and then slid them back onto his face. Jiyong breathed deeply and lifted his head to confirm whether or not he'd just hallucinated the last five minutes. Seunghyun was still there, still staring, and still the most attractive human being he'd ever had the pleasure of witnessing walk the earth.

 

But then Seunghyun's lips, perfectly sensuous and bow-shaped, curled in a smirk and Jiyong had to amend his last thought. He was the most attractive human being to have existed in all possible universes. End of story.

 

His jaw went slack as he watched Seunghyun draw that lower lip into his mouth and he didn't know what the hell was going on anymore but he needed to leave. Jiyong couldn't take all this blatant abuse. He scrambled to stuff his books into his bag, not giving a shit about the noise he was making or the disgruntled expressions that were being hurled at him. When he glanced up again, Seunghyun had risen from his chair and was sauntering towards his table. Jiyong swallowed, wide-eyed, as he let himself be temporarily distracted by the sway of those narrow hips wrapped in tight, black denim. Like a present he wanted to rip open with his teeth. One of his pencils rolled away to clatter on the floor and it broke his trance. Someone shushed him from the back of the room and he clenched his jaw in panic. Maybe Seunghyun needed to ask him a question about their homework. Maybe he needed help understanding the brilliant nuances of Truffaut's oeuvre. Maybe he thought Jiyong was going into cardiac arrest, which he most certainly would be if the boy got any closer.

 

Seunghyun walked around the table until he was standing beside Jiyong, placing one hand on the back of his chair as he leaned down to say something. The world could have stopped spinning and Jiyong never would have known. Not with the lips he'd fantasized about countless times currently brushing the rim of his ear. He closed his eyes and held his breath.

“Hey, Jiyong,” Seunghyun murmured.

 

_He knows my name._

 

_Of course he knows my name, we're in the same class. Get a fucking grip on yourself._

 

“Hi, Seunghyun,” he cleared his throat, gaze darting up and away because he was too much of a coward to look for more than a few seconds. “What's up?”

 

The boy huffed a gentle laugh and ducked his head. That was a nervous gesture. Why was he nervous?  _Jiyong_ was nervous, his palms already damp. He wiped them on his jeans and hoped Seunghyun would get to the point before he did something stupid. Like threw him down on the table and tore his clothes off. Jiyong cleared his throat again.

 

“This is probably gonna sound a little crazy,” Seunghyun whispered, the low tone of his voice coming out as a shiver-inducing rumble. “And I know we've never really talked, even in class, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the semester started. I know you watch me, too, when you think I'm not paying attention. And I know you only bother to speak up during discussions when you think it'll impress me because everyone else is an idiot.”

 

Pausing, Seunghyun used his other hand to grip Jiyong's chin, forcing him to make eye-contact. The boy smiled, thumb stroking his jaw and gaze darting down to his lips. He dug his fingers into his own thighs to prevent himself from reaching out.

 

“How can you know that?” Jiyong asked, chest rising and falling with each increasingly labored breath. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

 

“The way you look at me. Like I'm the only thing worth paying attention to.” Seunghyun's lips found his ear again. “It makes it really difficult to concentrate in class, knowing your eyes are roaming over my face and I can't do anything about it. Sometimes I spend the entire three hours wondering what thoughts fill your head, but I know. I know you imagine my mouth on yours and my hand wrapped around your cock just as much as I imagine fucking you into my mattress until you scream my name.”

 

Jiyong exhaled roughly as his brain stumbled to catch up, the velvet caress of those words coating him in a warm haze and leaving him dizzy. Dizzy and aching and hard. He swayed in his chair, their cheeks grazing as Seunghyun leaned back.

 

“So I figured, maybe, you'd like to give the reality a shot.”

 

Seunghyun's eyes were glittering and even darker than he remembered. Jiyong lost himself in their depths. Lost himself in the gentle touch of that thumb on his skin and in the blazing heat of his cheeks. He wet his lips and watched Seunghyun follow the movement. If this ended up being a joke, he was going to throw himself into the ocean.

 

“Are you–are you serious?” Jiyong struggled to speak, the gears in his brain whirring as fast as they could.

 

“As a heart attack.” Seunghyun quirked an eyebrow. “What, you think I'm kidding?”

 

“Well–“

 

“If I kissed you, here, in front of everyone...would that help?”

 

Jiyong gulped, searching the boy's eyes for any signs of deception or malice. But all he found was tender amusement and a thin glaze of  _want_. He didn't understand this at all. However, understanding it had nothing to do with enjoying it. So what if he was dreaming? It would be the best one he'd had in years. Standing up, Jiyong shook his head and grabbed his bag from the table.

 

“No,” he murmured, circling his fingers around Seunghyun's wrist before he could stop himself. “I have a better idea.”

 

Their footsteps echoed in the stairwell as Jiyong lead them up to the third floor and through musty aisles of ancient reference books until they reached a dim corner by the back wall. Seunghyun had remained silent through the entire journey, merely smirking like he knew exactly what was about to happen. Not that it was hard to figure out, anyway. Not after the little speech the boy had made, causing his heart to pound in his throat and his ears and the insides of his wrists. Jiyong tried not think about what he was doing, because if he did, he'd run down those stairs and right out the front fucking door.

 

The room was a bit warmer than the other floors below and Jiyong's plaid button-up was beginning to stick to his skin. He dropped his backpack on the faded, blue carpet and turned to Seunghyun where he was leaning against a row of shelves, hands dangling at his sides and hips canted at an angle. Even now, he was the personification of sex, half-shrouded in shadow and wearing a lazy smile. Jiyong let his gaze travel the length of that lean body and gave himself ten seconds to make up his mind.

 

It was now or never.

 

One step closer and he felt the swell of the other boy's body heat. Two steps closer and they were sharing the same air. Jiyong froze after the second step, his arms stiff and his legs uncooperative as his bravado left him all at once. Seunghyun stared at him and grinned, those dark eyes flitting over his face while he waited for something to happen. Waited for the rejection he only pretended to want because it was what he came to expect. Instead, the boy caught his bottom lip between his teeth again and attached long fingers to Jiyong's hips, pulling him those final few centimeters until they were flush. He was shaking, staring at the golden slice of Seunghyun's collarbone peeking out from the neckline of his t-shirt. Two thumbs rubbed slow circles along the waistband of his jeans, moving under the hem of his button-up to continue the heady torture across the flat plane of his stomach. Jiyong released a tremulous sigh and closed his eyes.

 

“Calm down, Jiyong.” Seunghyun spoke softly as he pressed against the tight muscles of his abdomen. “Relax.”

 

“How am I supposed to relax when you're touching me?”

 

The words came out in a single string and a warm chuckle was his answer. He was sure Seunghyun could feel the result of what this was doing to him, his cock growing harder with each passing minute. Jiyong sucked in a sharp breath when the pad of Seunghyun's thumb brushed one of his nipples.

 

“Open your eyes,” the boy whispered.

 

So he did. And before he could so much as blink, supple lips were molding themselves to his mouth in a kiss.  _Oh wow_ , Jiyong thought and a shudder tore through him because this was so much better than anything he'd ever imagined. Seunghyun tasted like cigarettes and root beer, lips gentle and warm. He moaned quietly, arms coming to life and wrapping around the boy's neck as he succumbed to the steady build of heat and electricity. The slide of Seunghyun's tongue against his was unreal.

 

Calloused hands slipped around his waist to lay over the small of his back and pull him even closer. Jiyong wasn't sure he could get any closer but he wasn't about to say anything when he felt the hardness of Seunghyun's own erection digging into his hip. His heart throbbed in celebration. He was desired. He was desirable. He was melting.

 

Seunghyun walked him backwards until his shoulder-blades connected with the shelves opposite. Jiyong used the leverage to roll his hips and as a delicious shiver vibrated inside of him, he was rewarded with a deep, rolling whimper. The low sound was addictive and he wanted to hear it on repeat forever. He rolled his hips again and Seunghyun's grip tightened, grinding against his body and emitting a gravel-thick moan of pleasure. It hummed loudly in Jiyong's chest.  _How am I still not dead yet?_

 

They broke apart, panting heavily. Seunghyun was smiling and he nudged Jiyong's nose with his own. His heart skipped at the sweet gesture.

 

“You taste really good,” the boy whispered, ducking down to lick a slow stripe over Jiyong's neck.

 

When Seunghyun did it more than once, his mouth fell open and his eyelids fluttered. He bucked his hips involuntarily and felt the other boy's breath hitch right before his skin was teased with the edges of sharp teeth. Jiyong clung to his shoulders and couldn't stop the slight tremors that traveled from his head to his toes and back again. He was already so hard and Seunghyun had barely done more than kiss him, he didn't know how much more of this he could take. The hands under his shirt disappeared and he mourned the loss of contact for all of five seconds before they reappeared at his sides. Seunghyun pulled away, the tips of his fingers trailing at a gradual pace along Jiyong's torso, but the boy's eyes never left his. He was watching; observing every change in his expression as he moved higher, grazing his nipples through the fabric and smoothing over his chest to pop the top button. Seunghyun worked his way down again until Jiyong's shirt parted and didn't stop there. His belt went next, followed by the button and the zipper of his jeans. God, it was so warm,  _he_  was so warm. Jiyong knew his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glassy. Did he look as debauched as he felt? He supposed he didn't care if he was an aroused mess. Really, he just wanted Seunghyun to keep touching him.

 

“Stop thinking so much.”

 

He laughed, nervous, and played with the hairs at the nape of the boy's neck. “What if I'm thinking about you?”

 

Seunghyun smirked and his hand slithered beneath the waistband of Jiyong's boxers to wrap around his cock. Jiyong knocked his skull back against the shelves and groaned, eyes shut tight.

 

“Please do share with the class, Mr. Kwon.” Seunghyun's voice went even lower, mouth hovering at his ear.

 

The hand that wasn't currently stroking his erection returned to the exposed skin of his stomach, Seunghyun's thumbs simultaneously flicking over a pebbled nipple and the head of his cock. It was like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs and he wasn't sure if he was capable of words or anything other than incoherent sounds now.

 

“Fuck,” Jiyong choked out, barely.

 

There was a pretty good chance he would come in his pants if Seunghyun stared at him long enough, let alone did anything else. Each small action was enough to bring him to his knees. He tried really hard to stay lucid, to give Seunghyun what he had asked for. The boy nosed at his cheek and his jaw and that sensitive spot just behind his ear. Jiyong arched against him and nuzzled into the contact, breath coming in short bursts.

 

“I'm imagining,” he gasped and sighed, “your cock in my ass.”

 

Seunghyun looked up at him, eyes black and lips red. He kissed Jiyong, hard, and twisted his wrist  _just so_. Jiyong's surprised cry was swallowed up by a hungry mouth.

 

“You want me to fuck you?” The question spilled hot and wet against his lips.

 

He nodded, rocking into the shallow pump of Seunghyun's fingers as he whined. “Yeah.”

 

_Yes, yes, oh god yes._

 

“What else?”

 

The waistband of his jeans was pushed down and his cock pulled out from his boxers. Seunghyun smeared precome over his palm and picked up the same, agonizing rhythm. Jiyong plunged his fingers into the boy's hair and held on for dear life.

 

“I want you to bend me in half and–,” he moaned, breathing heavily into Seunghyun's mouth. “And make me beg for it.”

 

A smile was pressed against his lips, short nails dragged teasingly along the length of his dick. Jiyong hissed and welcomed the sharp spike of pleasure. He'd always loved that back and forth, the build up of pressure that would swell and recede until he thought he was going to lose his mind. Seunghyun's kisses slowed as he trailed light touches over Jiyong's ribs and pumped his fist in lazy strokes.  _Never_ , he thought. He never wanted this to end.

 

“Fuck, feels so good.”

 

Jiyong couldn't control his body anymore, his hips jerking into the boy's hand in search of more friction.

 

“How bad do you want it, Ji?” Seunghyun purred, squeezing his fingers around the shaft.

 

He gritted his teeth and let his head loll against the shelves behind, his hooded gaze taking in the expression of pure lust on the boy's face. He glanced down at the hand still moving too slowly over his erection and groaned. Seunghyun squeezed him again and his eyes almost rolled back in his skull.

 

“I said, how bad do you want it?”

 

“Shit.” Jiyong emitted a strained whimper, biting down on his lip. That raspy growl was going to send him over the edge.

 

With a firm grip on Seunghyun's hair, he yanked the boy close and smashed their mouths together. Jiyong echoed his pleased hum with an eager moan and bucked helplessly against him.

 

“Make me come,” he nearly sobbed into warm skin. “Please, Seunghyun.”

 

He was so lost in the erotic tension, in the need and the delicious burn in his gut, that he'd completely forgotten they were even in the library anymore. Lucky for both of them, Seunghyun still had enough brain power to pay attention to their surroundings. Because the next thing Jiyong knew the boy's hand was clamped over his mouth and there were voices in the aisles on the other side of the room. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened when Seunghyun continued to stroke him, another wicked smirk tugging up the corner of those full lips. Jiyong tried to speak but he was shushed, a small kiss brushed against his temple.

 

“We have to be quiet. If you're too close, I can stop.”

 

He could only shake his head and slump against the shelves in surrender. It's not that he was  _afraid_  of being caught. It was the reminder that they were in public. And the risk of being found invited a shudder of excitement, making his heart pound twice as hard and his cock throb in Seunghyun's palm. The voices drew nearer and Jiyong swallowed a moan as that palm began moving faster. When he heard footsteps in the aisle next to them he clenched his eyes shut and tried not to scream.

 

“This assignment is such bullshit.” It was a girl, her annoyed scoff filtering through the rows of books.

 

“I know. But it's due in a few days and we haven't even started.” The second voice was male, directly behind him.

 

Jiyong could sense the beginning of his orgasm building to collect in the pit of his stomach, his muscles tightening and then uncoiling as he clawed weakly at broad shoulders. Seunghyun never stopped though, alternating between rough strokes and teasing him with the tips of his fingers. He wanted to strangle him. And it was his own damn fault if Jiyong ended up ejaculating all over his hand.

 

“Who the hell cares about a bunch of old, dead guys anyway?” The girl again.

 

Her derisive snort, accompanied by the slide of a book leaving the shelf, met his ears and eventually the sound of fading footsteps, too. Jiyong opened his eyes to find Seunghyun watching him, the wicked smirk having turned into an amused smile. The boy's hand dropped and he surged forward to capture those lips, making all the noise he wanted as Seunghyun started to trail wet kisses over his cheek and down his neck, pausing to swirl his tongue over both of his nipples. Jiyong was about to burst.

 

“Oh god, I–,” he choked on his own breath. “I can't, Seunghyun I-I,  _jesus christ_.”

 

Any other words he'd wanted to say were ripped from his lungs in a stuttered moan after Seunghyun slipped his cock into his mouth and sucked as hard as he could. Jiyong's entire body seized and his jaw hung open, his thighs shaking and his nails digging into Seunghyun's scalp. He teetered there, on the brink, for a few seconds before that hot tongue laved over the underside of his cock and he came.

 

“Holy shit,” he gasped, using Seunghyun to keep himself upright, veins thrumming with intense satisfaction.

 

Jiyong's limbs had transformed into noodles and his knees threatened to give out at any moment. Seunghyun was still licking at his softening erection, cleaning him off before tucking him gently back into his boxers. Jiyong trembled and forced himself not to think about how fucking  _hot_  that was. Also considerate. Which surprised him. He sunk to the floor, the useless heap of his body landing in the boy's lap, and buried his face in a warm chest. Seunghyun's arms circled his waist.

 

“Do you know how unbelievably sexy you are?” Seunghyun murmured into Jiyong's hair.

 

Giggling, he lifted his head and pushed his glasses up, raising a skeptical brow. “Me? You're crazy.”

 

“I mean it.” Seunghyun caressed the curve of his cheekbone, placing a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

 

Jiyong snorted and shoved the boy onto his back. He leaned down, pinning Seunghyun's wrists above his head, and nipped at his chin.

 

“I think your brain's lost too much blood,” he said, rolling his hips extra slow. “It's all in your dick.”

 

Some combination of laughter and a breathy moan rumbled beneath him and he grinned, gazing at Seunghyun with a fondness he most likely wasn't going to be able to hide anymore. Jiyong didn't know what this meant; this random hook-up, this spontaneous round of sex-in-public. That in itself was so out of character for him. He knew he wasn't dreaming but acknowledging to himself that he was currently dry-humping the one person that had occupied his every thought for months, was a bit on the surreal side. Jiyong rocked down on Seunghyun's erection again, once more gifted with a dark, rumbling sound of enjoyment. No, he didn't know what it meant. But he could certainly get used to it.

 

“You like that?” Jiyong teased the boy with a faint brush of lips, undulating above him.

 

Seunghyun nodded, straining against the hold on his wrists as he arched into the curve of Jiyong's thighs. There was a tiny smile on his face, fading when his features contorted in pleasure and then returning twice as wide. The reality of Jiyong's feelings, or at least his sexual desires, being reciprocated had made him bold. And with every quiet moan that he pulled from Seunghyun mouth, his embarrassment and his nervousness had disappeared until he was left with a heady sense of power. He could make the the boy beg, too. He could make him scream.

 

“I bet you'd love to watch me ride you, Seunghyun.” He sucked on the boy's earlobe, nibbling the soft flesh. “Bouncing up and down on your fat cock.”

 

“Fuck, Ji,” Seunghyun closed his eyes and gasped.

 

“My tight, pink asshole swallowing you up,” he whispered.

 

The drawn-out groan that followed might have been the most erotic thing Jiyong had ever heard.

 

“I wish I could fuck you right now.”

 

“You can fuck me whenever you want.”

 

Ripping his arms free, Seunghyun grabbed him by the neck and kissed him, needy and without finesse. He sighed into the embrace. Jiyong's body was still sensitive and everything felt infinitely more pronounced. The rough slide of Seunghyun's fingers over his chest, the wet heat of his mouth, the tingle of his skin and the residual waves of his orgasm. They fell silent for a time, save for their little panting noises and desperate whines. Seunghyun painted his collarbone with red bite marks. Jiyong carded his hands through the boy's hair and rocked his hips in small circles.

 

When Seunghyun came, he shuddered and held Jiyong tightly, moaning his name into the side of his neck.

 

***

 

“Did you mean that?” The boy asked once they were outside, lighting up a cigarette as they walked over to the parking lot.

 

“Mean what? The part about letting you fuck me whenever you want?” Jiyong smirked, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

 

Seunghyun's unsteady laughter was music to his ears and he basked in the slight blush on those smooth cheeks. Jiyong was learning, piece by piece, that Seunghyun wasn't the flawlessly cool and aloof badass he imagined him to be. He was also amazed at how  _not_  awkward he felt after saying that.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Tendrils of smoke danced in front of his eyes and he remained mute until they reached Seunghyun's motorcycle. Jiyong  _had_  meant it. But not in the context of fuck-buddies or no-strings-attached. Jiyong wanted strings. He wanted Seunghyun. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked down at his feet and kicked a pebble across the asphalt. His pulse tapped insistently at the thin skin of his wrists. So much for not being nervous anymore.

 

“I think we did things a bit...out of order.” Jiyong gnawed on his bottom lip and glanced at the boy leaning against his bike.

 

“I thought about buying you flowers first, but you didn't seem like the type.”

 

Seunghyun was smiling, which made Jiyong smile too. They watched each other for a moment and eventually he chuckled, nodding his head.

 

“You're right, I'm not.”

 

“Do you want a ride home?” The boy gestured to the motorcycle, taking a final drag from his cigarette and tossing the butt onto the ground.

 

“Does this mean we're dating?” Jiyong blurted and Seunghyun laughed, bringing him to stand in between his long legs.

 

“Preferably.”

 

Soft fingertips traced the contour of his mouth and his heart skittered and jumped like they hadn't just molested each other in the stacks ten minutes ago. Like this was the first time Seunghyun had ever touched him.

 

“You need to brush up on how to court someone,” Jiyong murmured against his fingers.

 

“ _Court_  someone?” The boy snorted, hand falling to grab at his hip and tug him closer. “Last I checked this wasn't 1908. Besides, it worked, didn't it?”

 

The grin he'd been trying to restrain broke free and he rolled his eyes. This was probably the most unconventional way he'd ever started a relationship. Jiyong looped his arms around Seunghyun's waist and tipped forward, stealing a kiss.

 

“Cocky bastard,” he said, still grinning.

 

“Hey...I like you.  _A lot_. Okay?” Seunghyun nipped at his mouth. “It wasn't my intention to make you think I only wanted to fuck you.”

 

And to that, Jiyong gave him the most disbelieving expression he could muster.

 

“Oh come on, it's not my fault you're such a cute little shit,” Seunghyun muttered in protest.

 

“Clearly you only want me for my body.”

 

Seunghyun pinched his ass and he yelped, poking the boy in the side to retaliate.

 

“Jiyong, if you weren't so brilliant, I never would have wasted my time.”

 

 _Oh please_ , he thought, suppressing another eye-roll. But Jiyong sobered up pretty quick once he'd registered the sincerity in Seunghyun's eyes. In his voice. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and averted his gaze. Why did he feel like he was dreaming again? Life wasn't supposed to work out in all the right ways and now that it was he didn't know what to do.

 

“You think I'm brilliant?” He mumbled, slipping back into insecurity. He definitely didn't believe it himself.

 

A gentle hand cupped his chin and guided him to look back up. Seunghyun's smile was alarmingly sweet and reassuring.

 

“I think you're amazing and way too good for me.”

 

Jiyong had to laugh. It was either that or get weepy and crying was absolutely not an option. He smothered his laughter in Seunghyun's shoulder and sighed. This was so ridiculous.

 

“And how have you come to this startling conclusion?” He asked once he'd calmed down. “You only see me in class twice a week and we've never interacted for more than thirty seconds until today.”

 

The boy shrugged, absently smoothing his fingers over Jiyong's hair as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

“I'm friends with Bae. He never shuts the fuck up about you.”

 

Bolting upright, he stared at Seunghyun, eyebrows raised high. Ridiculous was an understatement.

 

“ _Friends_  with Youngbae? Now that's something I'd pay to see,” Jiyong uttered wryly. “Why is this the first time I'm hearing about it?”

 

“I told him I'd run him over with my bike if he said anything to you. And Youngbae and I have known each other since we were kids.”

 

A frown appeared on Jiyong's face. “Why didn't you want him to say anything to me?”

 

“Because,” Seunghyun hesitated, cheeks going pink. “I never shut the fuck up about you either.”

 

“So all you do when you hang out is talk about me.”

 

“More or less.”

 

“You're both pathetic.”

 

Seunghyun's lips parted in a slow smile and he shook his head. “I can't help it.”

 

There was only so much he could do to maintain the facade of being unamused, especially when the boy was looking at him like that. As if he'd won a prize. Jiyong fought the giddiness in his chest.

 

“I have one more question for you.” He held Seunghyun tighter and stared deeply into those pretty eyes.

 

“Shoot.”

 

Wandering hands slid into the back pockets of his jeans, making his lips twitch.

 

“What took you so fucking long?”

 

And the brightness of Seunghyun's answering laughter was short-lived because Jiyong was too busy kissing him for all he was worth. 


End file.
